Paint With All The Colours Of A Harem!
by Takei Hisa
Summary: This is the story of a teenage midget with pale eyes. No. It is not a fairy tale so she never wakes up with perfect hair, because this is a story. Well, to put it simply, she catches more than one pair of eyes. And guess what, they're all multi-coloured. Give this story a shot because we're bringing to you, Kiseki no Sedai Kagami x OC like no other! (Reverse!Harem)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: First and last time writing a harem. Reviews would be great. 3

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"Don't leave just yet..."  
The long, fine eyelashes of a young schoolgirl fluttered ever so slightly, revealing a pair of pale eyes. Pale eyes that wondrously peered about, half-lidded and queerly inquisitive about her surroundings. Demanding an answer, sharp and alert all of a sudden. They had dropped their gauze of sleepiness and dimness. Now they shone briefly, mentally gauging the other male patrons of the humble morning train. Because she had felt it.  
It was too soft, and far too short. But it was absolutely electrifying. Like...  
Like fallen rose petals against her forehead that stung and left a tingly sensation on it that lingered. The sensation was gentle.  
If only she knew who had stung her with a morning kiss upon her forehead.  
She'd slap him, before asking for another one. This was assuming that a male had kissed her, of course.  
Maybe. Just maybe.

There were only three other people in the cabin with her.  
An old man with chapped lips and a pot belly that looked half drunk. He was sitting directly opposite her. She cringed slightly. Sparse, grey hair littered the sides of his almost bald head. She could bet a month's worth of her money it was not him. Who were we kidding anyway? Those lips didn't look soft enough to have granted her with such a spine-tingling kiss like the one she received.  
A young man. In a T-shirt and cargo pants. He was scrolling down what seemed like a social networking website on his phone. He sat right beside her.  
Nope. Those lips didn't look right. They were uncared for and cracked. That wasn't enough to send the feeling across.  
A bespectacled high school student with peculiar-coloured hair. He stood a few tears away from her. He has been reading. A horoscope book. So he was a cancerian too. Her gaze rose to his lips. His lips looked soft. Right. They were a pale shade of pink. They looked bruised though. Yet, she still reserved judgement. You never know anything until the evidence is present. She flipped the pages of her book that had been resting on her lap, scanning through the given text before her, expecting her stop to arrive soon.

A loud blare. An obnoxious horn. The calling of the train station. It yelped at the schoolgirl. It yelped at her to put off the desire to even try to think about the kiss. That dangerous, lusting tempt. She would've gone against the horn, but time was too crucial an enemy to face. It signalled for her to get off the train, because she missed her stop. That and she was late for school.  
"Shit."

It was your clichéd morning. The sun rising in the east, just barely dipping the city in its warmth and glow. The thick heels of a pair of a teen girl's brown school shoes clicked and resounded against the pavement of the train station. Her breathing just slightly ragged, her bag swung forcefully over her shoulder.

"Ma'am! Ma'am!"  
She wouldn't have turned round to pay attention to the deep baritone calling out. Not in exchange for half an hour's worth of punishment in class. No way in hell. Hah. Not today, mate!  
Then she felt a tapping on her shoulder. It was then upon her to turn around and spend precious time conversing with someone she probably barely knew. Shit.  
"Ma'am!"  
It was him. The green-haired high schooler with enticing lips. Those thin pink ones. Apparently he used lip gloss. How nice.  
"Yes?"  
He huffed and panted tiredly. In his outstretched hand was a book. Her book-to be precise.  
"You dropped this."  
"Oh."  
Her horoscope book. How careless she was. She knew her school bag felt slightly lighter after leaving the train. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She retrieved it from his grasp.  
"Thank you..."  
"Shintaro. Shintaro Midorima."  
"Thank you Shintaro." Her pale eyes flitted up to his lips. Her face held to its straight-laced exterior.

To say that the uptight, green-haired male was taken aback was the understatement of the year. He was appalled, floored, whatever that could describe his sudden desire to die in a rabbit hole. His face was taken over by a massive heat wave. He hid beneath the lens of his glasses. Embarrassed was the product of her intimate yet rude way of addressing him. Especially since the only contact that they ever had was on the morning train ride to school on weekdays. _Ahem_, Not that he purposely chose to stare at her on the train. Just that girls who were into horoscopes were hard to find. That and the fact that she always missed her stop and cursed herself at least twice a week for it. And her clear, pale eyes. It was like looking straight down into a fast-flowing river. Depth, was what they were. Ahem! Not that he'd actually taken out time to notice these. Definitely not! As for the current moment he was in, the fact that she was gazing at him so intensely with a poker face wasn't helping his embarrassment. He then thought about how he would've sharply corrected someone when they addressed him as such. That only facilitated his growing blush even more. She then spoke.

"You have really nice lips." Her voice was clear, every word properly pronounced and enunciated. She was very vocal and straightforward about her compliment. If she held anything about her opinions on his lips back, she wasn't showing it. All the more reason as to why he felt conscious. Her straightforwardness was just...Argh. Coming back to reality, he noticed that she had an odd habit of tucking loose strands of hair behind her right ear.  
"Wha-?!"  
Another wave of warmth flooded his cheeks when he remembered and processed her words. Midorima could barely hold his ground anymore. He averted his gaze and stuttered strings of incoherent words. So she did notice it after all. The kiss. He felt strangely exposed and naked. To this dense female he'd only ever stared at on the train, shamelessly admiring. Heck, he didn't even know her name! Yet he had just shamelessly approached and kissed her forehead in public because of a mad spurt of raging teen hormones that seemed to take a liking to her vulnerable and innocent sleeping form. What the heck?

This was not normal. To be complimented by a stranger whom he only ever stared at on the train was out of the blue. Did she too have no shame? (Aye, the pot calling the kettle black!) Or was she simply that thick headed? Or was there far more to that statement? Perhaps it was a combination of both? How frustrating.  
"Oh." She murmured, snapping back into reality.  
"I have to be off now. Good bye, and thank you once again, Shintaro." She curtly addressed.  
He couldn't let her go now. Not without finding out her name at least. He mustered up whatever remnants of voice he had left.  
"W-wait!"  
"Hm?"  
"Your name!" Gosh. He sounded so stupid. He was going to have to slap his own face with a raw fish or something. Stupid Takao would probably have loved to see him so unravelled. The thought of Takao devilishly grinning made him cringe inwardly. _No way_.  
"...Makoto Furihata! I'll treat you to a slap the next time we meet!" She smiled mildly. He couldn't tell if she was being serious at all.  
Makoto Furihata. He was going to remember that name, and that smile. For sure. He'd only seen it once after all.  
Wait, what did she say about a slap again?!  
Midorima then swore that Seirin High really had some jacked up students.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: been working on this for awhile now. :3 enjoy! Leave a review for this is my first harem!

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"Apparently you have problems understanding the school rules, do you not, Furihata?!" Demanded the strict disciplinarian mistress-otherwise known as Makoto's Maths tutor for the day as she whacked the board with her pointer for emphasis on her last sentence. Boy was she livid. All because Makoto had come in late for the lesson. Makoto could've crossed her heart that the teacher was on her time of the month.

Screw this shit. She knew she shouldn't have talked to Shinatoro, or whatever his name was. This was, in the end, her ultimate downfall. A nagging lecture and punishment from one of the most dreaded teachers in school. Peachy. She let slip a sigh, before shaking her head. She tucked a strand of chocolate-tinted hair behind her ear irritably.  
"Why are you shaking your head?! Punished! You'll be sitting at the back of the class today!"  
"Someone's on her time of the month." She spat softly, but with the fullest intentions to be heard before callously dropping her bag against the back of her assigned 'punishment seat.' Cue a few chuckles from the back of the class, the stereotype place where dodgy kids resided, playing cards and handheld portable electronic games underneath their desks, away from the prying eyes of the teachers.  
"Excuse me?"  
"Nothing, sensei. I was just saying that you look absolutely ravishing today, just like every other day." Makoto droned with a monotone, propping her head up on a hand and dazedly gazing at the teacher, highlighting exactly how much she truly meant that statement. A few attempts to contain their sniggering and snickering erupted from a few students in the class. Specifically the back.  
"Cut the crap and pay attention, Furihata." The teacher went red.  
Makoto tucked a loose strand of flyaway hair back into place.

She yawned lightly. Makoto didn't mean to feel sleepy in class. She wasn't like this on normal days. Mind you, normal. She would've paid more attention, if it hadn't been the disciplinarian mistress teaching math. She absolutely killed the joy in that one subject. How dreadful. How someone could rip the joy of forming equations and finding the values of X away from what seemed like an already rather dead-assed topic was incomprehensible to her congested brain. A neatly-folded square suddenly plopped onto the corner of her table.

"Late again?"  
Stupid Tetsuya, just like him to mercilessly smear salt into an open wound. Late? Gee, no. Whatever he had just seen earlier was a play, set up by the student body president. The plot was that the teacher in the play decided that it'd be great to kill time by shrieking at a student who had just walked in from the toilet instead of teaching the class deadpan algebra. Ouch. That's her imagination going wild again. She swore felt an irk mark form above her head. Makoto hastily scribbled her response to his moronic question with a blue pen, mildly cursing towards thin air for the ink had started to run out. This was just not her day. First she gets assaulted on the forehead, then she's late for class, now her stationery runs out of ink, what next? She tossed the paper square back.  
"You don't say."  
Kuroko's lips formed a thin line. A thin line that tilted upwards so very slightly at the ends. He wrote back immediately. The sound of a sharp pen against paper was distinctly audible. That is, if you strained your ears and listened very, very closely. You'd probably also hear the "thump" of the note being passed back to a brunette at the back of he class.  
"What happened?"  
She chewed her bottom lip raw at the question. She nodded to herself, like it was perfectly normal to do so and tugged at the loose strand flying about, toying with it childishly. The square flew back onto the bluenette's table.  
"Well, I was assaulted on the forehead with a kiss on the train this morning by some green haired guy with glossy lips. Is that supposed to be a normal custom in Japan nowadays?"  
She saw a brow furrow to her left.  
"No." Came the short reply.

"BRIIIIING!"  
The lunch bell rang, screaming and yelping at students to start running for the canteen. The queues would be metres long if they hesitated. Makoto instinctively got out of her seat, prepping for lunch. Kuroko remained in his seat, eyes downcast. She started for the the door only to be caught by Kuroko's grip. It wasn't particularly tight, just constricting.  
"You can't go yet." He looked completely solemn.  
"But I'm hungry." She said that like it was validation for him to let go.  
"Not until we disinfect it."  
"Disinfect what?" She cocked an eyebrow, rather irritated. She was hungry, and standing there wasn't helping.  
"This."  
Kuroko leaned down a little and placed a firm kiss on her forehead. She realized that he had really nice lips too. She noticed the generous amount of vanilla scented lip balm used, so his lips were not only smooth and warm, they smelt good too. How nice.

"K-K-Kuroko!" A loud shriek at the door was heard.  
"Kagami-kun, I see that you're here."  
"You have nice lips Tetsuya. Is that affirmation enough? Can I go have lunch now?"  
"B-but he just _kissed_ you! Do you not see the-" Kagami flailed his arms.  
"Tetsuya, I'm hungry." She repeated her statement from much earlier.  
"Does vanilla-"  
"No Tetsuya, I want _real_ food." She stated, with the weight of her voice on 'real'  
"...udon?"  
She approvingly smiled, before heading off to the canteen, hands in the pockets of her blazer.

"Kuroko-"  
"Yes, Kagami?"  
"We agreed not to touch her. She's not supposed to know.

"Yes, indeed we did..."

"So why..?"  
"Disinfecting. She was kissed by Midorima-kun on the train earlier this morning. Kagami-Kagami-kun?"  
Kuroko turned to face the redhead who had already fainted by the name 'Midorima.' He shook his head.  
"Kagami-kun..."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: A chapter without the OC! Have fun! Reviews are needed. Asklfsagbh. :3

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The many beads of sweat dripped and trickled down against their already wet faces, almost blinding their piercing eyes. Their plain tees were soaked through with excessive sweat and the stench of exercise. You didn't need to look very closely: you could probably see the contoured muscles of the redhead and the bluenette through the shirts. Their legs ached with the lactic acid rushing through, their heads of hair drenched in their own glistening perspiration. The basketball they had used already far too smooth to be used for the purpose of practise anymore. Heavy pants and gasps for oxygen could be heard if you stood beside the court. Kagami Taiga and Kuroko Tetsuya were completely burnt out after their intense basketball practise in the form of a one on one match. A match in which Kagami trampled over Kuroko, just to note.

They were both lying down by a short bench, gazing towards the endless evening skies of Japan. Just settling down, catching their breaths, watching clouds drift by aimlessly. Watching the sun set beneath its horizon, back to where it belonged. Their chests rose and fell with the seconds passing by. They stayed like that for what seemed like half an hour, just basking in the evening sun's light. The taller of the two was the first to make a move. He abruptly stood up, blocking the already dim sunlight from the shorter one's field of vision.  
"Dinner at Maji burger? My treat."  
Kuroko's lips broke into a small grin as he extricated his tired, draped arm from his forehead.  
"Okay."

"Ten of these, two orders of those-large please. A medium coke please. Uh...five of these...and um. A Caesar salad. Yeah. Oh-and a vanilla milkshake. Thanks." Kagami finished ordering with a big, lopsided grin. As the cashier read out the order to the kitchen, her gaze that was originally one of admiration at the hunk before her was then replaced by eyes that were noticeably wide and a pair of raised brows. She dumped his order on a tray, hastily signalling for the next customer.

Kagami carried the overflowing tray (or was it trays?) to the table where Kuroko sat. He witnessed an old man in his eighties grunt as he sat opposite the bluenette to rest  
what seemed like his tired legs, only to be scared shitless when Kuroko regrettably explained that the seats were already taken.

"Here. Your standard order." He muttered, handing him his regular vanilla milkshake. He wondered suddenly, what was so good about the milkshake.  
"Thank you, Kagami-kun."  
Kuroko, satisfied at the free treat, happily sipped on it, savouring the sweet taste and the thick texture of it. Kagami peeled the thin yellow wrapper off his first burger, before devouring it with satiated sounds from both his stomach and throat. The meal went by peacefully... I think.  
"munch...munch..Munch!"  
"slurp..slurp..slurrp!"  
"Munch, MUNCH!"  
"Sluuuurp!"  
Kagami crushed the frail wrapper of his fifth cheeseburger for the night, frustrated. His brows were knitted, almost literally. He shot sharp daggers at the male before him. Kuroko on the other hand, merely looked up and gave Kagami his divided attention. He swirled the straw absent-mindedly in his cup as he looked up. His eyes held a veil of dazedness, like he wasn't fully there.  
"Yes, Kagami-kun?"  
"Makoto."  
"What about her?" He tilted his head slightly, feigning innocence, fully paying attention now.  
"What do you like about her?" He got straight to the point.  
"Hm...why do you ask?"  
"Just satisfy my curiosity." Kagami was starting to lose patience. He crushed the wrapper in his large hand.  
"I could ask you the same.." Kuroko slyly stated, a smile breaking out.  
"I'll answer you after."

Kuroko looked down into his cup, staring at the white froth, unconsciously sipping a few mouthfuls before zoning out into his own little bubble. His eyes wore a dazed look, like he was really thinking. He nibbled the mouth of the straw, ruining its former structure. By then Kagami was already irritated, for no answer had surfaced.  
"Well?"  
"She's a weird girl. You don't see someone like her every day." Kuroko declared finally.  
"You don't say." Kagami tched, the incident where Kuroko kissed her in the morning surfaced in his mind. He licked his fingers clean of the sauce from the burger that had callously dribbled over.

"So why does Kagami-kun like Makoto-San?"  
"Well..." Kagami buried his face in his two palms. He was going to hell for saying all of this, for being so gay, he was sure. He didn't even know why, but he felt like such a girl for saying any of the things he thought. UGHHH. He was more of a girl compared to a girl. Here goes.

"She's like a crazy ass shapeshifter. One minute you think she's a square, all rigid and serious about things, and the next she's like some damned star, showing you good she is at the things she does. Then when you least expect it, she's a heart. She shows you the compassion you need at the weirdest of times. And because she changes so often she's just a big unknown blob of shape I can't stereotype or understand. It's so frustrating because one minute I think she's going to do this, but she surprises me. All. The. Damned. Time. So it gets to me. All the more because when I think of it this way I start getting ideas that I'm gay or something. I'm more of a girl than she is." Kagami finished by slurping up the remaining coke in his cup, averting Kuroko's eyes.

"Oh,"  
"I'm not gay, Kuroko! That and she's got those eyes."  
"What eyes?"  
"Those creepy yet really nice eyes. They're worse than yours, Kuroko-it's like they stare at you and pierce through your soul. Not that yours do, I mean. No offence intended! It's creepy yet alluring at the same time. And she's really different. I don't know. Most guys aren't supposed to like it, right? She's not exactly what you'd consider a lady. I mean-she wears cargo pants! She's more of a guy than a girl."

He hungrily bit into the bun of another cheeseburger, gobbling it down within seconds. Kuroko however, maintained his staring, just watching Kagami eat. Kagami suddenly became conscious and glared at Kuroko, who sported a suspiciously cocked eyebrow, his face a light shade of red.

"I'm not gay okay?! She's just really abnormal! She has a bad fetish for lips!"  
"Kagami-kun, that's cause her dad's a makeup manufacturer. Specifically lipsticks."  
"How do you even know that?!"  
"Kagami-kun, I use the vanilla flavoured one-"  
Kagami just table flipped at this.  
"WHAT THE HELL KUROKO!?"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Ice cream! *Fistpump* okay just ignore me. -pouts- leave a review?

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A giant standing at two metres tall yawned lazily as he sucked on whatever was left of the sweet treat enveloping a stick in his mouth. It had just come out the other day. In terms of flavour he wouldn't rate it anything more than a five. But the texture kept him sucking on it. The late afternoon sun was burning the people of Japan, trying to char them into black, burnt crisps. He took grungy, slow steps towards the nearest convenience store from home, since he had just run out of snacks. He fanned himself with his jersey, relishing the coolness it brought. If you observed closely, a small, white lollipop stick was thrown off the pavement, right into the trash bin.

"Maa maa...I need an ice-"  
His half-lidded gaze fell onto a short brunette munching away at an ice cream. He didn't usually take notice of midgets. But this midget was different. She was enjoying an ice cream. The issue wasn't her eating the ice cream though. It was the speed she was eating at. The speed she was devouring the barely melted dessert at was unfathomable. She had bought it only minutes ago too! The girl had her mid-length hair up in a messy ponytail that looked untamed. She had donned a singlet and shorts, a simple and casual ensemble matching the scorching weather outside the shop. But Atsushi Murasakibara was looking past all these unimportant details. What struck a chord in him was merely and only the speed she ravaged the ice cream at. How the ice cream stick could be licked clean in a matter of seconds was...was...  
UNACCEPTABLE!

"Short girl." He nudged her shoulder, looming over her smaller frame like the humongous male he pale-eyed female broke her train of thought to turn around to face him. She bluntly raised an eyebrow, eyeing him up and down.  
"Tall guy." She acknowledged his presence curtly, bobbing her head mildly to indicate her disinterest, before turning back round to throw the stick away. Murasakibara noticed that the midget had shoved the wrapper in her pocket.

Murasakibara had wanted to do this for a really, really long time. He just could never find the right person to do it with. Now, maybe, just maybe he could. He tilted his head, his long, violet fringe draping over his eye like thick curtains. He spoke his line with menace and absolute seriousness.

"I challenge you to an ice cream eating match."  
He crossed his arms and stood with his feet shoulder-width apart. Apparently he felt rather confident that she would accept the offered challenge. I mean, why wouldn't she? He had actually took a portion of his time out to challenge her in complete contrast to his lazy attitude and behaviour. She'd better make worthy of his spent energy.  
"No."  
"..." He watched her as she started to go.  
"Are you a wimp or something." His lips broke out into a wide grin, obnoxiously pleased at the mess he had created with his own two hands. Well, metaphorically that is. The short girl had clenched her fists instinctively, pursing her lips in a frozen state. She reluctantly turned around, a sort of flame starting to arise beneath her clear irises.  
"What are we betting on?"  
"The newest flavour of umaibo," he started, noticing the gleam in her eyes that had just sparked off when he mentioned umaibo. He could understand why, since he too was a fan of the icy treat.  
"Whoever eats the most number of ice creams in one minute winds." Murasakibara stated confidently, his mouth crooked into a twisted smile.  
"It's on."

She had won, five to four. The short brat had won.  
She. Had. Won.

She beamed triumphantly, secretly gagging with laughter and glee on the inside. She maintained a decent facade though, which was rather impressive. How the hell did he lose? Murasakibara frowned, rather obviously at that, and unwillingly purchased the newest flavour of umaibo for the gleeful victor.

He'd walked side by side the annoying short girl as she tore the wrapper carefully, fully meaning to add it to her stores of assorted wrappers, her prized collections. She folded it carefully and stuffed it in another pocket. Murasakibara looked down at the brunette, watching her nibble the tip of the umaibo, before licking the entire length of it, enjoying the flavour and coolness it brought to her pale lips. She smacked her lips lightly, and glanced up, only to meet a violet, desirous gaze, hazy with an emotion she couldn't quite identify.

Furihata Makoto was about to harshly question the male's look with her sharp tongue, but held back almost instantly, for the creepy blonde's words echoed in her mind.  
"That's no way to make friends!"  
She bit her lower lip and tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. Screw Kagami Taiga. She held up the umaibo to his lips, prodding it while she did so.  
"You can have some if you want...Atsushi." She averted his gaze. Makoto glanced at his tag for the first time. His name was Atsushi. She hastily coughed. She didn't really like initiating things like that. Especially since she had to take on a submissive role. She didn't feel in her element. Or comfortable for that matter. She wasn't usually so...so...feminine. She inwardly cringed at the thought.

Murasakibara couldn't deny his surprise at her outburst of his name. It was in all honesty, rude. But he didn't dislike it. He covered his mild surprise quickly though, wordlessly imagining the image of her all flustered and a mess on the inside. How...alluring.  
The basketball player gripped at her smaller wrist and brought the treat she held closer. He wrapped his lips around it, all the while not breaking eye contact with her.  
"I think I want to eat you now."  
If this were a fluffy romance novel, Makoto would've turned a "scarlet red" and start stuttering. However, this wasn't. And she definitely wasn't going to.  
"I don't think that's possible...I mean...your lips are really nice. They look healthy...but..." She zoned out. Was she actually considering that?! She paused, and smiled slightly. The kind of satisfied smile that was similar to Kuroko's. A fine line. How annoying. She stuck out her hand.  
"I'm Makoto Furihata. But you can call me Furihata."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So... I was. Really eager. I don't even know what I should say. -buries face in embarrassment- I'm sorry I'm so socially impaired. Will you still leave me a review?

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"Are you in middle school?"  
That was the first question the blonde male with a burgundy scarf draped around his neck had asked the brunette behind the cramped barista counter after he had placed his order of the seasonal Christmas Candycane latte on the menu. It was the first question. And probably his order mistake in the cafe.

The brunette ignored him, only bothering to tighten the dark blue apron of the cafe around her waist and hurrying off along the narrow space behind the counter to retrieve more orders. He swore he had heard her huff before she stomped off. What a child.

The short female internally glared at him as he hummed a short tune. How dare he. She turned around and smiled a practiced and robotic smile, gesturing him to wait for his drink by the side. Preferably silently. Famed model Kise Ryouta was however, not deterred by her antisocial and cold behaviour. In fact, he took it one step further. He leaned over the counter flirtatiously, waggling a long finger at her and going "tsk tsk."

"It's not okay for kids to take up part time jobs you know, but it's cause you're so adorable, I'm sure that's why they gave in!" He said, a silly grin on his face. The brunette finished making his latte with a pump of whipped cream, before handing him the ordered drink with a loud "thud!" as it came into contact with the wood table.

"I'll have you know that I'm in my first year of high school. Please enjoy your drink...sir." The brunette coldly muttered, skulking off to take more orders.

Makoto never would have chosen this part time job. Not willingly, that was. She only applied for it because it had a more-than-decent pay to give her the indulgence of spending, and she had nice colleagues with weird hair colours. She liked weird people, though she'd never actually say that. As long as they didn't cross the line.  
You know, as long as they weren't like this overbearing blonde customer who wouldn't go away.  
"Kid..!"  
She took hasty, furious steps. She slammed her hands lightly on the counter before gaining calamity. She heaved a deep breath, trying not to let him get to her. She looked up at him and clicked her tongue against her glossed lips.  
"What is it, princess?" She retorted sharply. Makoto drummed the table with her fingernail tips impatiently.

His eyes had widened slightly at her upfront rebut. He hadn't been expecting that. Not from her at least. What he had been expecting though, was a long, amusing lecture about how she wasn't a kid, and how she was going to swear about kicking his balls, beating him into a pulp...or something along those lines. Not "what is it, princess?" Maybe she wasn't a middle schooler after all. Wait-did she just call him a 'princess?' He didn't know how to respond, so he only replied.  
"That's no way to make friends," with a pouty look. Apparently this could strike a chord within her. She zoned out.

"Tch...what's all the noise going on outside-Kise?"  
"AOMINE!" Kise squealed when he laid eyes on the familiar figure. Yes he literally squealed and rushed behind the already cluttered and cramped barista counter to embrace his tanned amigo. He clung to Aomine, half in crocodile tears.  
"Uwaaaah. Your co-worker was being a complete meanie!" He complained, ignoring the fact that they were starting to attract unwanted attention in the form of stares and whispers.

"Sorry to break up your love moment, but could the both of you release your sexual tension elsewhere? I still want to do my job...and it's really constrained in here." Makoto voiced, hand on her hip.  
"Sorry, Furihata." Mumbled Aomine softly, ripping a wailing Kise off his body. Kise halted his whining as he retreated. He looked Aomine up and down with his golden orbs, before letting out a low whistle.  
"Don't you look sexy."  
Aomine was in a collared, short sleeved tee and black slacks with a matching dark blue apron to match his hair.  
"Go to hell already."  
"Uwaahhh. Your co-worker's moodiness has rubbed off onto you."  
"Tch."

Makoto rolled her pale eyes as she made the orders for the next customers.  
"Sorry ma'am? What did you say you wanted again? Caramel or-"  
"OI!"  
"Watch out!"  
Makoto only could turn round to see a glass jar fall off the shelf. That and a messy blurred mop of blonde and dark blue hair in front of her. It all happened far too fast to comprehend. A pair of dark blue and yellow eyes shut and awaited the crash of the mason jar as it collided with their faces, but it never came. Neither the sound nor the collision. They only heard a light chuckle. They opened their eyes slowly to a resounding applause from the entire cafe.

"Really." She laughed, glass jar in hand, shaking her head  
"You guys are idiots." She was rolled over beside them, a metre away from where she would've been hurt. Her free hand draped gently over her head.  
"You guys are idiots, but you both have proven to be good idiots. Good idiots with nice lips." She laughed absent mindedly, before placing the hazardous jar on a lower lying shelf. Their lips indeed had been nice, as she had noticed. She'd long known that Aomine had a nice pair of lips. She'd known that since they had started working together. They had that perfect shape. 'Kise'..was it? Kise Ryouta? The model? That explained his glossed and preened lips. Though...Aomine would've been a better model if he had some personality to go along with his looks. She escaped reality into her own little orb, mumbling incoherent words to herself, mixing drinks as she shoved loose strands of light brown hair back behind her ear. Where they belonged.

"Did she just call us idiots?" Kise mumbled, rubbing his sore back, wincing at the bruise that was probably going to form.  
"I suggest you take it as a compliment, Kise."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Maa Maa... Hello. Two in one action again. please enjoy your stay!

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"IF I AIN'T GOT YOU BABY!"  
"Makoto-San, please calm down."  
"SOME PEOPLE-Hic!"  
"Whoa! OI! Tetsu, what's the meaning of this?!"  
Aomine hastily clambered onto the table, after a drunk-as-hell Makoto singing at the top of her lungs, in a futile attempt to get her off-and to stop singing. Makoto whined loudly as she fell off the counter into his toned arms. She giggled, her eyes blissfully shut. Probably the first and last time he'd witness her doing such actions.  
"Nooooo! Mmmph! Kelly Clarkson is a unicoooorn! She sings! Like...like an angel!"  
"Yeah, and that'd make me a centaur that dances. You sound too much like Kise now." Aomine gripped her tightly, preventing her from causing any unnecessary trouble.  
"Blarghhhh." She mumbled, blinking her eyes rapidly. Her incessant kicking stopped, and she settled down quietly in his arms.  
"Be a good girl okay~?" He cooed softly, bobbing her up and down like how he'd carry a newborn infant.  
"Oh? Aomine-kun is playing along?" Kuroko quirked a light blue eyebrow, an amused smile playing at his lips.  
"Shut up Tetsu. You were the one that intoxicated her in the first place." Aomine glared heatedly at the bluenette, all while petting the brown head of the half-asleep girl.  
Yes. Kuroko had dropped by the humble cafe for an after-dinner milkshake treat. Courtesy of Aomine, of course. He had brought along an old recipe he had wanted to try out for decades. A family tradition that was handed down for decades, he had claimed. That was, in fact, the reason he had even bothered to swing by the cafe. And of course, the homemade recipe just had to contain alcohol. Strong alcohol.  
Mind you, it was vodka. And Makoto, being the kind and polite female she was...Well. Let's just say the extent of her goodwill was more than enough to actually accept his proffered concoction even though she fully well knew that she couldn't drink, ended up high.  
And drunk she was.  
When I say drunk I mean drunk.  
Not drunk like red-faced, silent and sleepy drunk.  
Drunk like DEREDERE reverse personality drunk.

"Daiki...Daiki...!"  
"Hah? The hell you want?" Aomine clicked his tongue impatiently. He barely passed her a glance as he placed a glass on a shelve.  
"You make my Kuroko go DAIKI DAIKI!" She exclaimed in his face, flicking her fingers by his ears before bursting into a fit of inane giggles in his hold. Her laugh was surprisingly bearable. It was cute, in fact. It pained him to admit the above, but it was true nonetheless. Like a bubbly spring of freshwater that you'd see in spring-her laugh. It was terrifying to know that someone so stoic and calm could do such wonders. Though he wouldn't mind if she had that face more often. Aomine's expression was that of an eight year old in a sex shop with his parent. It was the picture of complete and utter confusion, unknowing and truthfully speaking, rather horrified.  
"Makoto-San, you should really stop hanging around Izuki-senpai..." Kuroko dead panned. He put the last cup on the shelf, dried and clean.  
"Shut up-Hic!"  
"We need to close up shop. The boss is out today so it's just us. And we need to send her home. She can't possibly go back alone in this state." muttered Aomine, fishing out the keys to the shop from his pocket. He handed Kuroko the large ring of keys. It was already 11pm.

The night sky was cast with a blanket of bright stars. They dotted the contrasting darkness.

Aomine was seated in the taxi with the drunkard in the backseat, while Kuroko instructed the driver on the directions back home. Aomine tried to focus his attention on the streets outside, glowing dimly by the street lamp's faint emittance of light. He felt a pressure to his right.  
"Wha-?!"  
"Shhh...don't move." Makoto mumbled, her face dangerously close to his. One hand was lazily resting on his lap, the other on his shoulder.  
She leaned in.  
Aomine felt his cheeks flush, though it was probably masked by his skin colour and the fact that it was dark. He shut his eyes.  
Only to feel a painful, stinging flick on his forehead.  
"Ow! What was that-"  
"It was a bug." She stated drily and returned to her position from earlier. She seemed sober. Or at least, that was what Aomine thought.  
"Tch..."

She painfully arched an eyebrow. She scooted closer to Aomine.  
Both eyebrows were raised by now. A devilish smile visible upon her lips.  
Her hands on her lap.  
Her brown mop of hair beneath his chin.

"What did you think I was going to do?" She grinned. Her teeth were surprisingly white. Aomine felt a rush of heat flood his face.  
"Nothing. Go back to sleep or something." He muttered, pushing her head away. Not once did he look her in the eye.  
"Did you think I was going to kiss you?" Her voice dropped a baritone, to a soft whisper, till only the conversation between them could only be heard by the two involved in it.  
"N-no!"  
She leaned in again, closer this time. He was forced to look straight at her, into her piercing pale gaze. A lock of brown hair fell past her ear. She only kept up with her burning stare.  
"If it's another bug-"  
Aomine then silenced. This was a joke right? No way this was actually happening! He gave the shorter female a shocked look. Though, he was not expecting an answer. Her lips had already extricated themselves from his burning cheek.  
"Goodnight Aomine." Makoto stretched and yawned. Within the blink of an eye she was face flat on his lap, lightly snoring.  
"Goodnight. Stupid drunkard." He smiled softly. He almost leaned in to press his lips to her forehead.  
Like I said.  
Almost.

"What did you say, Aomine-kun?" Kuroko turned around to face the tanned basketballer, eyes slightly widened.  
"N-nothing! Are we even there yet?!"


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Been inactive for so long. Here's my make up for it. Leave a review?

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Akashi had always been an inquisitive and curious person. So when he realised that a specific odd-looking book sitting on the shelf in his room wasn't truly pages of words, he yanked at it. He expected something to happen. What he didn't expect was that his massive bookshelf could be manoeuvred with that particular book as a handle to reveal a dark-and might I add-rather dodgy-looking passageway. The time was already 2AM in the morning. Akashi could have easily questioned one of the maids or manservants in the estate about the queer passage and where it led to. But no. No. He decided to venture the shady passageway. Alone. With just a torch. Forget the fact that curiosity killed the cat. Who cares when you have a torch, right?

Makoto's pale coloured eyes fluttered open to a massively throbbing headache. You'd think and hope that she'd wake up looking prim and proper like in those movies or ads for mattresses, like she hadn't been screaming lyrics on a bar table earlier. But no. No. Remember? This is a story, not a fairy tale. She discovered unpleasantly-that there was dried-up drool on her cheek. (She swore it reeked of saliva) She was still donned in the skinny jeans and tank top she had worn to work. Well, that and a thin layer of sweat and grime and dirt and practically things that shouldn't have been on her. Her body had been sprawled out on the queen-sized bed, and the blankets, bolsters and pillows had all been kicked off onto the tiled floors. Her hair was what you'd dub "A bird's nest." She yawned and stretched out her arms to improve the blood circulation. Everything after accepting Tetsuya's drink was a complete blur to her. She winced at the piercing ache that came stabbing at her head when she made an attempt to remember what had happened. A shower. A shower was what she needed.

Akashi honestly wished he had put on some slippers before going on his adventure down the passageway. The torch illuminated the path, revealing much more to be desired from the road. It wasn't actually all that bad. It wasn't dusty, though Akashi would admit that it needed a new paint job. The old paint was yellowed, and was already peeling off the walls, and whether there had been any midnight critters just hanging around waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting victim was still unconfirmed. Akashi could only continue walking forwards, taking very slow and very cautious steps towards the unforeseen.

Makoto came out of the shower in a skimpy, pastel pink towel. Her face wore a tired, relaxed and relieved suit. She manually dried her dirty brown locks with another towel, humming a soft tune as she did so. She had only taken one step forward. Just one. She wasn't even close to her closet yet. She wasn't even nearing it when it freaking did flipped the other way to reveal a confused redhead holding a torch. An attractive redhead holding a torch.  
"...Oh. I'm still drunk."  
"Ma'am?" Akashi suddenly realise the delicacy of the situation. He was in a teenage female's room. Not to mention, it seemed like she was staying alone at home. And to make things worse, she was only clad in a short towel that left very little to his imagination. He watched on as she pinched herself.  
"Ouch! Okay. Nope. I'm going back to the bathroom for another shower then. Once I come back out, all this-"  
" Ma'am? I'm real."  
"Yeah. Okay. If that's so, at least let me put on some actual clothing. Greeting guests in a towel isn't the norm for me."  
Akashi probably felt his face warm a little at that statement, though it was visibly covered up very well.  
"Of course."

Akashi took the liberty of sitting on her bed and taking note of his surroundings. A room.  
A fairly small room.  
He went through the things on her dresser. Bracelets, rings, necklaces, an occasional ear stud. A few bottles of perfume. Nail polish. The regular.  
Then he turns to look at her closet, the other side of the long passageway. That was not the regular.  
Her closet was left open as usual so he caught an eyeful of her apparels. Was it okay to have so many fandom shirts? Akashi noted that she had piles of Shoujo manga too. He would've taken time to flip through them if the door to the restroom hadn't slammed open.  
She was in a pastel blue tee and yellow shorts. And apparently whatever he had been doing before she came out, she didn't care. She paced over to the edge of the bed and sat down, cross legged.  
"So, Hi. May I know what you were doing behind my closet?"  
"Well, it's a long story. To sum it up simply for you, your closet leads to my bookshelf." He clasped his hands as he finished his sentence, acting like whatever he had just claimed was a valid explanation to him popping out from behind her closet.

"So...what were you doing at 2AM in front of a bookshelf?"  
Akashi had to stop to think about that. Not because he didn't have an answer. It was mostly because she hadn't been utterly floored at the fact that her closet was an entryway to a dark, secret passage, or the fact that she was talking to a complete stranger, and she didn't mind. He had been expecting that. He had rehearsed a practised conversation in his head to assure that they both could end their meet in peace, without police reports. Though, he doubted she'd call for the police. I mean, she let him sit on her bed! A complete stranger! They didn't know each other!  
"Insomnia."  
"Ah... I get that too. I'm Makoto Furihata. But just address me as Furihata." She stuck out her large hand, as a gesture of friendship and comradeship. Akashi gripped her hand in his tightly and gave it a firm shake.  
"Akashi. Akashi Seijuuro."

"..Whoa whoa whoa. Wait, so you're saying that you're a rich kid living in some grand mansion. And your 'grandeur place' has a secret route that connects your bedroom to a shoebox apartment?" She quizzed, eyebrows raised. She shoved a strand of hair behind her ear. He'd notice her do that at least thrice in the last two hours. Yes, at least two hours had flown by. They had been having a rather interest-piquing chat, considering how they'd just met. They were pretty into it too.  
"Exactly."  
"What if the room's previous occupant was secretly a double agent for the Akashi household? What if he or she was a servant by day and a ninja or a police officer by night? Oh, oh-why are you staring at me like I'm some hybrid offspring of a giraffe and an elephant...?"  
Akashi blinked. Once. Then twice. The side of his lips quirked up. He tore off a piece of paper from a notepad that had been lying around on the floor.  
"What?"  
"Follow the instructions when the time comes. See you then, Makoto."  
Those were his last words as he retreated back behind her closet, drawing deeper into the darkness of the route.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Kay, Double chapters. Iloveyouallsomuchletmesmotheryouwithhugs

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"Please explain to me why I'm here again."  
"I need help in searching for a dress."  
"But you never wear dresses! And could you not have asked Kuroko!?"  
"Well, he's out with a middle school classmate, and am I not allowed to wear a dress?"  
"N-no.."  
"Exactly. So help me out and help me by holding my bags."  
A short brunette's slippers made plopping sounds as she trotted away, not before shoving the very few bags of clothing she had already bought, and dragged the taller redhead by the collar. Kagami yelped in surprise as he was led by the nose after the demanding female. Girls. He questioned his sanity and-in the process-found out that he also had to double question his naive kindness towards people.  
"Taiga."  
Even after being in the same class with Makoto for months, Kagami Taiga still had some...issues with her addressing him so intimately. He couldn't get used to it. It got to him, and a faint redness would stain his face every time she called him as such. Which of course, she didn't notice. (Duh)  
"W-what?"  
"We need to go into that shop. We're starting here." She pointed to a large clothing outlet. It was a massive store which sold dresses aplenty.

"Christmas dress..." She mumbled as she sieved through racks and racks of multiple dresses, trying to find a piece (or two) that suited her. Within half an hour, she'd already had six dresses in arm.  
"Taiga. Stay here. I'll need your advice." She stated, patting him on the arm and heading for the changing room.  
An unpleasant grunt was her response.

"How's this?" She asked as she pushed past the curtains to the changing rooms. Kagami's nose wrinkled by instincts. He knew she wanted to look trendy, but something about the dress just didn't seem to fit her. And it just looked awful. The lacy red sleeves clung to her shoulders, and the body-hugging skirt just didn't make the cut for him personally.  
"Get rid of all the dresses in your hand that are body-hugging from top to down."  
"That's at least four..." She viciously flung the dresses at him, trying to vent her irritation at his subpar response.

"This?" She came out in a dress with long sleeves. It was a midnight blue with a furry hem. Kagami had already dissed the hem. That was just too gay for her. Furthermore the dress was just too long. It was a no-go. It looked far too awkward.  
"How's this?" She asked, coming out in a bareback pink one that ended far too high from her knees. It left very little to the average male mind's imagination. Kagami raised his eyebrows and mouthed the word 'slutty' before motioning for her to head for another  
shop. He was abruptly hit in the head with a flying hanger after that.

"This?"  
"No."  
"How bout this one?"  
"Get rid of that."  
"This..?"  
"That's a no-go."  
"This one."  
"Are you just blind?!"

After a hundred dresses and a few bruises on Kagami that was inflicted by the ruffled female, she came to the realisation that she still hadn't found the dress. And she needed it in two days. She buried her head in her hands, muttering curses under her breath.  
"Hey. Don't give up yet."  
"Thanks for everything, Taiga...Taiga? OI!"  
Kagami had already long taken flight, in the direction of a deserted shop near the corner of the mall. Makoto sprinted after him, only then realising what a fast runner he was. She only reached the shop in time to see him in the midst of chatter with the shop owner, an old man.  
"...could I take a look at that one? Yeah. The one up there for display."  
"Taiga, what-"  
"Shh. Go try this on. And let your hair down and look good. You won't be wearing your hair in a ponytail to whatever event you're going to right?" He said, stuffing a handful of mint-coloured cloth into her arms. He sounded much more tender than usual.  
"The changing room's there."  
"Thanks..."

"Please tell me that this is the one." She said as she left the cramped changing room. Kagami looked up from the magazine he had been reading. His eyes noticeably widened. He hastily coughed into his hands after realising that he had been staring. Just blatantly outright staring without inhibition.  
"Is it bad?"  
Bad? What the heck? Bad was the last thing he'd think of. The dress she had put on was sleeveless. It was a light shade of mint green and it flattered her-cough-upper body-cough-well. The skirt flared out after her waist, and ended just a little above the knee. It looked like her. It was her. They'd found it, after long hours of scanning the whole mall. He felt her awkwardly pressing about, trying to feel more at ease. Her hair was let loose, and it hung over her shoulders loosely. Her eyes held the slightest tinge of worry, probably the one emotion he'd ever see her display.

"It's..."  
"IT'S SO WONDERFUL HE DOESNT KNOW WHAT TO SAY, GIRL!" exclaimed the shop owner as he swung a friendly arm around Kagami and let out a booming chuckle.  
"Really? Good." She said promptly, and with the swish of a curtain she was out of the dress and back in her cargos and tee.

"That will be fifty dollars. For you, I'll throw in a belt. It goes wonderfully with the dress."  
Makoto nodded. Her long fingers were about to retrieve her wallet to foot the bill when it was suddenly paid for. She turned around to face the taller male. She gave him a low glare and held onto his arm. Fingernails drug ferociously, leaving crescent imprints in the flesh.  
"No."  
"A Christmas present."  
" I don't want to owe you favours."  
"You don't get to object."  
The dress was paid for by Kagami in the end.

"Thank you." She didn't want to look at him. Makoto was too overwhelmed by the fact that she now owed him fifty dollars. Or some intangible favour that she couldn't fathom. They walked on in silence.  
"It's a Christmas gift." He repeated.  
She stopped all too suddenly.  
"What?" He asked.  
"I'm only doing this once, so be grateful. Bend down" he did as she ordered and she tiptoed and leaned in.  
Kagami was stunned.  
"My Christmas present to you."  
He needed a really cold shower now. Or a pinch. A painful one.  
Maybe both.  
"Oi, Taiga. Coming?"  
He wouldn't be lying to himself if he said that she just kissed him on the forehead. Right? The spot where she had placed her lips against burned furiously.  
"Yeah! I'm coming!"

The early morning sun dawned on Japan, illuminating it and marking the passing of time. It was once again the beginning of another day. Makoto would've awoken to the nice morning breeze and probably bird-chirping, maybe even the sweet smell of brewed coffee wafting into her nostrils.  
But let's scratch that. This isn't a fairy tale and she's living alone so the intoxicating scent of brewed coffee would most possibly mean that someone broke in and that she should prepare a frying pan. Or a gun.

She awoke to find herself on the carpeted bedroom floor. How she ended up in such a screwed predicament, she didn't know. Probably the after-effect of too much black coffees and a night out with Kise Ryouta the previous day as an assisting helper in his modelling job which she considered far too unstable. She was forced into it.

"BEEP BEEP BEEP!"  
"What...? Holy shit I'm late-!"

Makoto clumsily crashed into furniture-namely her bed as she bolted up-well, attempted to bolt up-to retrieve her outfit for the day. She was late for Akashi's invitation.

"Ow. Ow ow. My toe-owwww."  
A mint dress was hastily thrown over her head. It was prepared just the night before for the special occasion, laid out on a chair along with an accompanying belt. It was over her dead body that she would ever admit that she had been admiring the dress Taiga had picked out for her.

"Akashi, don't you have plans for Christmas or something? Like with your girlfriend?"  
"No. Do you?" His eyebrows had rose.  
"Please, dear sir do look at the state I'm in. Exactly who'd date me?" She had gestured to her hair from the night of their fateful meet. A curt smile was her response.

Makoto tamed her wild locks with a wide-toothed brush, all the while keeping an eye on the ticking clock.  
"I'm late." She repeated that statement as if saying it would increase the speed of her actions.  
She forced the pair of black flats on her feet and stood in front of her closet, chest heaving from the effort she'd taken to look as such. She pushed.

Black.

It was the only word appropriate to describe what she saw after her closet closed behind her. Okay. Blame herself for not bringing a damn torch. Now he was about just as blind as a bat. She blindly felt around the walls while advancing towards the other end of the passageway, noticing peeling, dried remains of paint beneath the tips of her fingers. The bricks were dry, and just slightly dusty. She abruptly shivered. The tunnel was cold. Of course she didn't bring a coat. How smart of her, no?

Fifteen minutes had passed. She thought. Well, honestly speaking she didn't and couldn't possibly have had a very good estimate since she didn't have a device that could tell her the time. She wondered if she was lost. (Though she chided herself for how would a person get lost in a one-way passageway? It was just heading in one direction! No way you'd get lost!) She was just about ready to head back when her head came into contact with a rough surface. It felt nothing like the walls of the passage. This was warmer. She pushed again, with her toes crossed.

Makoto wasn't exactly expecting anything, though seeing the familiar frame of Akashi Seijuuro in an armchair, reading, did give her a mild surprise. He glanced up at the creaking noise, eyes darting over to the source of the sounds.  
"Makoto."  
"It's Furihata. Nice place you got, Seijuuro."  
"Thank you."  
An outstretched hand was politely offered in her direction.  
"We need to go. The guests are waiting."  
"Guests?"

So this was what he meant by guests. Males. Just a bunch of males. Males. Like. Males.  
Males she knew all too well.

"Nee~Akashi-kun was going to introduce her to us? Furichin's-"  
"No way! What the heck Akashi!"  
"Tch..."  
"Akashi-San, what is the meaning of this?"  
"Akachiiiiiii-!"  
"A-ah! The Cancer girl!"

"Taiga? DAIKI?! Guy who kissed me on the train..? You guys...?!"  
Akashi merely cocked his head quizzically, seeming to be mildly amused at the gang's reactions. (Though he was taken aback by Midorima's guts at sexually assaulting her on a train-a public area. Did he lose his marbles because of Takao?) He nodded firmly and held her in front of him.  
"She's the lady I'm going to marry."  
"WHAT THE HELL?!"


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I AM SO SORRY I RECEIVED THE NOTES TELLING ME OF MY ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS ABSURD ACTION OF UPLOADING THE WRONG FILE I AM SO SORRY. SO. SO. SORRY. Here's the new chapter. CROSS MY HEART, THIS IS THE RIGHT ONE! enjoy 3

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"WHAT?!"

"Akashi-kun, that's despicable." Kuroko's face was deadpan as he pulled Makoto over to him.  
"Akashichiiiii—!" Kise fell to his knees in sobs and bawling.  
"Oi, since when did this happen?" Aomine muttered, his teeth gritted, as he slung an arm over Makoto's shoulder lazily.  
"I don't know either. This is the first time I'm hearing about it…" She muttered.  
"Well, it'll only be a matter of time before you agree to marry me." Akashi squeezed Makoto's shoulders, releasing a (twisted) smile.  
"I object to the marriage Aka-chin…" Murasakibara entered the room, munching on the whole log cake he had retrieved from the kitchen fridge. So much for sharing and caring.  
"Tsk. You guys…Oi! MAKOTO!" Kagami reached out instantly and caught her before she fell.  
Makoto had collapsed.

"Wakey wakey…Good morning."  
Makoto blinked to see ten pairs of violet eyes staring back at her.  
She blinked twice and shook her head. Nope, just one pair.  
The hell was she? It smelt of… antiseptic and old bandages. And food.  
"Where—?"  
"We're in Aka-chin's family hospital. You collapsed at the Christmas party, remember? You should've told us that you were anaemic Mako-chin, we were so worried" Murasakibara's lips turned downwards as he prodded her lips with a chunk of sponge cake.  
"Eat. You'll need food to get better. Sweets always help."  
Makoto's lips formed an "O" as she graciously accepted his proffered gift of food.  
A light vanilla-scented flavour melted into her tongue. Nice.  
Icing sugar, vanilla paste…Hm.  
"So Mmph—what happened?" She swallowed her bite of food.  
"You collapsed a little while after Aka-chin said that he'd marry you."  
"Oh." Makoto's mouth opened unconsciously as Murasakibara fed her with another bit of cake.  
"There's no way that would happen. Seijuuro's just being crazy. We've only met for about a week. You don't get married to someone whom you met just last week." She swallowed and smiled gently.  
"Then, would Mako-chin marry me?" He tilted his head.  
"What?" She motioned for him to continue feeding her. She suddenly grew aware of the hunger pangs growling and clawing at her stomach.  
"I asked if you'd marry me if I asked." He drawled, popping the cake into her mouth.  
"Dhonct Beesh Stchupid—Mmph." She swallowed again.  
"Hah?"  
"I said—" Her eyebrows furrowed.

The door to her ward creaked open hastily. Midorima strolled in, his hair flyaway and his glasses crooked. He was cursing under his breath about slow trains and heavy traffic.  
"I'm sorry I'm late, is she—Oh."  
His gaze travelled from Murasakibara to Makoto. Emerald orbs met brown. Midorima swore that he got that piercing feeling once again. It felt like her eyes bore into his soul.  
"Shintaro!" She smiled widely. It was so rare that he felt a warmth stir in him.  
"I-it's my shift now."  
"Mido-chin, are you sure you're not too early?" The giant glowered with contempt at the bespectacled basketballer as he got out of his seat, glaring at Midorima.  
"Yes. You may leave now." An equally fierce gaze was returned. An eye for an eye after all. Ugh.  
"Take your sexual tension elsewhere and let me eat my cake." Makoto mumbled to no one in particular, bending over the bed frames, trying to reach the rim of the plate on the bedside table.  
"I'll help you," Midorima took quick footsteps and handed her the plate.  
"Thank you." She murmured, digging into the treat, letting the sweetness sit on her tongue.  
Murasakibara tsked,  
"Okay, I'll be off now then, do think about what I said earlier kay, Makoto?" He grinned wickedly and waved. With that, the door slammed shut.

Midorima was silent for the next ten minutes.  
Ten whole minutes just passed in silence.  
It wasn't like the both of them hadn't been in silence together before.  
Their morning train rides from before were all silent.  
But this time it was different.  
Awkward.  
It stung her skin and made Makoto feel raw.  
"Shintaro?"  
"U-Uh, yes?" He was visibly taken aback at being addressed.  
"You're being awfully quiet." Makoto frowned. He hadn't been so distant before.  
"I was just thinking."  
"Of what?" Makoto quirked an eyebrow.  
"…" Makoto took that as a sign that he didn't want to say anything. She scooted closer.  
"You can tell me. My lips are sealed." She promised.  
"What did he ask? Murasakibara?"  
She stopped her motion of chewing. A hasty swallow.  
"He asked me if I would marry him too." She rolled her eyes after, swallowing the last bite.  
"Tsk! That bastard…"  
"Shintar—Mmph!"

WHAT.  
WHAT THE CLUCKING DUCK DUCK WHAT.  
WHAT WHAT WHAT.  
Makoto pushed him away from her lips violently, gasping for breath.  
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!" Her face was dusted red.  
"I'm sorry, I had to do that."  
He was pummelled with countless blows from Makoto, all of which didn't hurt.  
"H-Hey! Watch yourself!" He caught her as she almost fell out of her bed.  
"You stupid…stupid…" she continued to throw her fists against his chest.  
"That was my first…" She yawned loudly. Then fell asleep in his arms.

Midorima hesitated to set her back on the bed. He only realised then that Makoto's eyelashes were long. How was it that he had never noticed? Her lips were a pale, faded pink and her complexion was flawless. He released a small smile as he finally set her back. He'd spent about five minutes admiring her before he remembered what he had just done to her.  
He had assaulted her again, the first time being in the train.  
She had tasted like icing sugar and vanilla.  
Her words echoed in his head.  
'That was my first,'  
'My first,'  
His whole face was engulfed in warmth when he realized.  
He had taken her first kiss.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I haven't updated in forever but that's all because school's being a monster. Enjoy, because shit gets serious in this chapter.

* * *

"Midorimachii! It's my turn! You can go off now~ I'm sure she wants to be left alone." Kise shut the door and motioned for the flustered male to take his leave. The ward door shut with a faint click.

"Makotochii…" He whispered, taking large strides to Makoto's bedside.  
"You're asleep now, so I can talk to you right?"  
Only ragged snores answered him. He chuckled lightly and leaned forward.  
"I really have lots to say to you. I know I'm not as mature as you," he looked down into his clasped hands, his bangs brushing his eyebrows.

"I mean, you're really good with people, and you never complain about things. Even when Aomine got angry at you that one time, you didn't get mad… but let's not discuss that. You're always so grown up. The way you handle things…" He wryly smiled.  
"What I'm trying to say is that…" He sucked in a deep breath.  
"I really like you."

His ears perked when Makoto rolled over on one side. She grunted.  
"Ngh…"  
He laughed lightheartedly.  
"Go away…Shintaro…first…kiss…" Makoto's eyebrow furrowed noticeably.

"Midorimachii, you're so despicable." The blonde teen mumbled as he slumped against the chair watching the teen girl lightly snore in slumber.

"WHAT THE HELL, MAKOTO." The vision played on loop. Aomine throwing his hands into the air, exasperated. Makoto's hands on her hip irritably, the intensity of her glare only increasing with every second of the pregnant tension in the air between the both of them.

"Daiki, all I'm saying is—"  
"No. You don't get it, do you!?" His eyes narrowed  
"Daiki—"  
"Read the mood for once okay?! You might be really good with other people but you're a hopeless cause when it comes to yourself!" He yelled at her.  
What had she done?  
Other than potentially scarring a male for life, she doubted she had done much harm at all. Not that it would affect Aomine in the first place. All she had done was to reject a senior from the school's tennis team whom had confessed his 'inner feelings' about her to her. He had walked off with his eyes tearing, his shoulders slightly slacked. But he had told her that he wouldn't give up.

"What was wrong with rejecting that senpai? It wasn't like I_ liked_ him in that way or anything." Her tone was calm, albeit casual, like they were discussing what she had for dinner the night before. A little _too_ careless. This only fuelled Aomine's already raging anger and furiousness.  
"Gee, how about you think about someone's _feelings_ for once?" He snapped sharply, walking away with a face tinted with anger and embarrassment.

Then the scene changed. Midorima was in front of her. Leaning in far too quickly.  
F* #.

Then she woke up to a sweaty forehead and clammy palms.  
"Ryouta…?"  
"Makotochii!" Kise burst into joyful chatter and glomped her, revelling in her company now that she was awake. She had been out for at least an hour. He basked in the paleness of her now fully-open eyes. So pretty.  
"It's your shift now…? Where's Shintaro?"  
His expression fell.  
"Ah… his shift ended one hour ago…does Makotochii wish to see him?"  
"Sort of." Makoto made a mental note to stab him in his scrotum with a dagger the next time she saw him. And to give him the slap he deserved.

Kise watched her enveloped in the faraway thoughts, so far from where he was currently. Was he always going to have to try and keep up with her speedy pace just so he wouldn't get left behind? He bit his lip at the remembrance of her calling out for Midorima. His eyes fell.  
"Do you want me to get him for you?"  
"What?" Makoto's eyes met his serious gold ones.  
"I'm not going to get him here." Kise crossed his arms.  
"Hah?"  
Kise gripped Makoto's hand in his, realizing that their hands were almost of equivalent size. She was that different and unique a person. She wasn't the petite small girlfriend you could get for a dollar on an iPhone application. She was someone who didn't mind having to go through the hard work. Someone who wouldn't whine over minute problems. Someone independent, real, strong. Someone who could solve complex math problems but was often outwitted by a kitchen appliance. Someone who prided herself on her abilities to study and to excel. Someone who seemed so much higher above him. Like a woman instead of a girl. How exactly do you tell someone like that about your feelings?

"I won't let Midorimachii take you away from me." He bore through her with his eyes.  
"I don't understand…isn't it your shift now? Why would Shintaro come back for me?" She cringed a little at the pain due to his hastiness when he gripped at her wrist.  
"What I mean…Makoto…" he only tightened his grip. This was such a critical moment.  
"I like—no. I love you."  
Makoto raised an eyebrow.  
"Yeah, I care for you too. Love's a strong word. It's abused too easily…" She trailed off.  
"Makotochii. Do you know why Minechii was so mad at you the other time you rejected the senpai?" Kise released her wrist from his irons grips. He realized it left marks. It must have hurt her.  
"Not exactly…I heard rumours that they were friends though. I mean—"  
"It's because he loves you. And I don't mean that we just care for you. We really do love you. All of us. Midorimachii, Kurokochii, Akashichii…Minechii. All of us love you. In the way a man loves a woman and wants her to be his for the rest of his life. That's why Midorimachii kissed you on the lips. He meant it as an act of love." Kise felt the string of tension in him snap.  
"We all share the same feelings for you Makoto. And it won't fade or go away. Every time we see you—Every time—I see you. I feel so happy. You don't know. It's because you truly are different. It's why we—no. It's why _I_ love you."

"Just…think about it." He finished. He turned around and got up to leave.  
Makoto's fingers reached out and clung to the hem of his shirt.  
"Tell the doctor that I would like to be discharged."


End file.
